I Helped a Young Mom with Her Baby in a Grocery Store – Three Days Later, a Large Black SUV Was Parked Right Outside My House

I tucked the baby against my chest, one hand cradling his head.

He was hot and tiny and furious. He wailed in my ear.

“Okay, little guy, I’ve got you,” I whispered.

Like someone turned a dial, his screams softened to hiccups, then to little whimpers. His face pressed into my shoulder.

I looked over at the men.

They froze.

One muttered, “Whatever,” and pushed his cart away.

The others followed, suddenly fascinated by literally anything else.

I turned back to the girl.

She was already on the floor, back against the shelves, shaking so hard her teeth clicked. I kept one arm around her shoulders, the other holding the baby.

“It’s okay,” I murmured. “You’re okay.

Just breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. I’m right here.”

“I couldn’t—” she gasped.

“I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to drop him. Everything went blurry, and they were laughing and—”

“Hey,” I said, firm but gentle.

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